


The Queen's Gambit

by Dani



Category: Chess (Board Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 17:30:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2820371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dani/pseuds/Dani
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You cannot play at Chess if you are kind-hearted”<br/>(French Proverb)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Queen's Gambit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lemonstiles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonstiles/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy this yuletide treat!

                It's strange how the field of battle is speckled with black and white squares. It's also strange how no one seems to ever notice. Every day you line up on the field, your army and theirs. You all take your places as though it were pre-ordained and then you begin to move.

            The first movement begins at the crack of dawn and it is the enemy team that attacks first. Despite being the army of light, they always begin every battle. Their army loves war more than it loves life, and so it always makes the first move.

            You counter-attack, sending your soldiers into formation, building your defenses. It's important in these early stages to mount a good defense. Assuming white isn't being reckless today, they would be doing the same.

            In the early stages of these battles, you can only see the soldiers, not their commanders or their king. The fog of war masks everything beyond the line of scrimmage and you know that you are similarly masked.

            You wait a long moment, then another. All the warriors are lining up as they always do, it's only a matter of time before your king abandons the field of war and castles. Another breath ,longer and suddenly the tower wall is by your side rather than your husband.

            Sighing, you ignore the slight sting that this abandonment still manages to bring you regardless of how many times he has done the exact same thing. Honestly, you almost feel more bonded to the castle walls than to your king. The towers that seem to move with you, helping you when you take to the field - helping you more than your king ever did. Taking a step forward, you leave the safety of the towers behind but make room for them to work together.

            With a well worn eye on the battle field, you watch the knights as they leap from one skirmish to the next. They are the assassins of your army. They can strike from any corner, guard from strange directions and move with ease over the crowded field of war. You feel oddly safe knowing that the knights are also keeping their eye on you. At this stage in the battle, they would sacrifice everything, even their very lives, to keep you on the field. It breaks your heart to know that the knights tend to fall first.

            You startle and take a step to the side when you notice the enemy's knights have come into range. Like yours, they are the assassins and you have to be wary of them.

            Sometimes you wish you could see what they look like, underneath their helmets and behind their horses, are they even people still? or have they been consumed by their image to the point where that is all that remains.

            Your infantry is starting to fall, you can see them lying dead in the middle of the field before their bodies are whisked away to allow the battle to continue. You could feel a sense of pride that the enemy army is falling in equal measure, but you don't. It all seems so senseless, this game that you are forced to play.

            The Bishops have moved away from you. With the fall of the infantry, they can now make their way across the field unencumbered. They move gracefully, differently than the towers. They cross the field at odd angles and attack from the corners. They enemy often forgets to guard against them. You can move with their grace, but you don't, not yet.

            A white bishop crosses into your sight. It seems the enemy has forgotten you, has forgotten your power. It is a dangerous mistake to make.

            Without a thought, you cross the field and plunge your sword into the man's stomach. He falls to the ground and you push him aside to take his place on the field. You smear his blood across the white grass as you clean your sword.

            You're alone out here, away from the safety of your line and your towers. You know that the knights are still watching, but you still feel so incredibly isolated. The infantry is in range, and one moves forward to attack you but you step forward as well, hiding yourself in plain sight and using the enemy soldiers as you shield. They can't kill you here and as long as they remain where you are, the others would be hard pressed to do so as well.

            This new position has given you a better vantage. You can now see the back of the enemy's army, the twisted inverse of your own. You can see that their king is also hiding in his castle, his towers moving defensively to guard his position.

            You can see the face of their queen, so much like your own that it always gives you pause. Does she also look out at the field and wonder why? Does she also look at her husband and feel only disgust at his cowardice? You would give everything in that moment to know what she is thinking, as she looks across the field as her army kills and dies around her.

            Then her eyes turn to you and all you can see is ice in the white queen's face. She is cold, she is emotionless, she doesn't even flinch at the destruction around her. You wonder if her face mirror's your own. Could anyone look in your eyes and see the hopelessness? or would they only see blank stone?

            Her last remaining bishop is coming towards you, but you don't look at him. You've long since concluded that watching your impending doom was far more painful than simply feeling the blade cut you down.

            Instead, you keep your eyes locked with hers. Unsure of what, if anything, you're searching for, you keep your eyes trained on her every feature even as you feel the bishops spears plunge through you.

            As your vision begins to fade, you feel gratified to see the woman flinch.


End file.
